


All We See Is Light

by Iaveina



Category: Casualty (TV)
Genre: 31x33, Brotherly Grief, Character Death, F/M, Gen, Reap the Whirlwind Part Two
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-10-28 09:07:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10828146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iaveina/pseuds/Iaveina
Summary: In the aftermath of Cal’s death, Ethan struggles to cope. (A continuation of 31x33 Reap the Whirlwind Part Two).





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I haven’t written anything creative in over a year, but following on from Saturday’s Casualty I just… had to. Absolutely had to.
> 
> This can stand alone but I’m going to attempt to make this chaptered!
> 
> It’s also cross-posted on ff.net where you can find me under the same username.

The room was dark; the only interruption to the shadows being the thin strip of sunlight that escaped from the gap in the top of the curtains, splaying itself cheerfully against the ceiling and the wall, highlighting the tiny patterned grooves in the wall plaster that he had never taken any notice of before.

He had no interest in it really but it was something safe. Safer than succumbing to the sleep that his eyes and his body begged him for, or than succumbing to the screaming voices in his mind.

So he counted again and again and again. About two finger spaces tilting up and two finger spaces tilting down, meeting at a vertex. Three millimetres deep he reckoned, and each line on a wall holding about fifteen patterns maybe more. He wasn’t sure. He  _had_  to be sure. So he counted again.

“Ethan?”

He lost count. His eyes slowly tracked the wall to the start of the line and with a furrowed brow he started again.

_One finger space up, two finger space up…_

“Ethan.”

_Vertex, one finger space down, two finger space down…_

The bed dipped and a warm, soft hand rested on his cheek. He stopped counting, lethargically leaning into the touch, and met Alicia’s concerned gaze. Her face was pale and make-up free, her long hair hanging limply to her shoulders and her eyes highlighted by deep purple bags that indicated a number of sleepless nights.

Ethan figured he looked worse.

“Have you slept?”

They both knew he hadn’t. He shrugged.

“Ethan, you need to sleep.”

Her voice was calm but he could hear her unspoken plea.

‘ _It’s been three days Ethan, you’re not sleeping or eating and you’re only hurting yourself! Please,_ he _wouldn’t want you to do this._ ’

Something inside him clenched painfully and he tore his eyes from where he was looking just slightly over Alicia’s left shoulder back to the grooves in the wall.

_Deep breaths. One finger space up…_

“At least come and have something to eat, when was the last time you ate?”

They both knew that too.

“I can’t,” he whispered, voice barely audible through chapped and sore lips. He swallowed. “I just,  _can’t_.”

He was numb. And tired. So so tired, so tired his body screamed at him and his bones ached and his breath felt heavy and he could barely think about moving but he couldn’t, just  _couldn’t_  sleep or even think about eating when he brother was-

“Ethan,” Alicia’s hand encased his. He closed his eyes against the damp that rapidly welled in the corner of his lids and sucked in a slow breath. “Ethan, I know, I  _know_.”

“You  _can’t_  know,” he choked, desperately wanting to pull his hand away but not able to muster the energy to do so. “You  _can’t_  know how it feels. How  _I_ feel.”

How he felt after seeing the most important person in his entire universe lying lifeless before him, the sheets that covered an unmoving chest were blood-stained and his face was pale, so pale. With his eyes closed he had looked like he was only sleeping, so peaceful.

But the tube that should have been delivering life-saving oxygen to his lungs was connected to nothing. There was no life to save.

A sob escaped before he could stop it. Deep and wrenching from where it had been buried within him with a sound he barely recognised as coming from his own mouth, and despite his best efforts to stop them he felt the tears escape. They tasted salty on his tongue but he barely noticed.

Alicia tenderly pulled him from his seated position and Ethan wrapped his arms around her.

“Let it out,” she whispered into his ear, running a hand soothingly through his unkempt, greasy hair. When did he shower last?

Why did he even bother asking himself when he already knew the answer?

“I’m sorry,” he sobbed, dimly aware that he was clutching the rough fabric of Alicia’s shirt maybe a bit too tight and that the patch of shoulder he had buried his face into was rapidly growing damp. “I just don’t know what to do.”

Alicia gently moved back and lifted his chin. Through blurry eyes Ethan could see the glistening tracks that marred her own cheeks and it fascinated him as he moved his hand to catch a droplet on his finger. Someone so beautiful shouldn’t cry.

“You have  _nothing_ to be sorry for,” she breathed; an underlying harsh quality to her voice that Ethan knew was more directed at his words than he himself.

“I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can’t…” His eyes struggled to hold her gaze and knew he sounded pathetic. “... _can’t_  believe he’s gone.”

His brother should be here, waking him up ridiculously early by singing loud, obnoxious pop songs in the shower and leaving dirty mugs on every conceivable surface imaginable in their apartment.

Ethan was pretty sure there was a load of his laundry still sat in the dryer.

“I know,” her hand was back in his. He gently squeezed it and the corners of her lips twitched up in an attempt at a smile. “But we’ll get through this. You’re not alone, we’re all in this together.”

“I know.” She squeezed back.

“Come on,” she began, slipping off the bed, their hands still clasped. “Duffy’s come over, she says she’s not leaving until you have some lunch. And then you’re going to have a nap before we go and speak to the police.”

He eased himself off the bed, bare feet touching the carpet and legs protesting at the movement, and drew himself up. “We’ll find whoever did this.” He spoke it with more conviction he’d felt since his brother’s death.

He would make Cal proud.

Together he and Alicia stepped into the bright light of the living room, all thoughts of counting slipping away.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THEY LEFT HIM ALONE????????
> 
> Anyway, I think I’m going to try and very loosely follow the plot of the episodes… but will most likely do a ‘What if this happened instead?’ approach as I am a sucker for What If scenarios (someone stop me from writing a ‘What if Cal lived?’ story plz)… We’ll see, I don’t have a massive plan other than therapeutic writing so join me on this magical journey!

Duffy’s idea of lunch was a small bowl of tomato soup and a plate of fresh, crunchy bread; the smell hit him like a jolt and his stomach growled wildly in response.

 

“Ethan!” The woman in question was placing a large glass of juice on the coffee table but looked up as soon as he shuffled out into the living room. The room itself was spotless. He and Cal had certainly not been slobs, but as two bachelors working long hours sometimes things just piled up. Now, the sideboards had been de-cluttered, the curtains were drawn back and the window slightly open to let in the gentle outside breeze. “Come on, it should still be warm.”

 

Her voice was inviting and his feet stumbled towards her automatically, dropping bonelessly onto the sofa with a huff.

 

“You need your energy,” the steaming bowl appeared before him. “It’s nothing fancy, but it’ll help.”

 

He really didn’t feel like eating anything, but in an effort to ease Alicia’s obvious concern he dipped the spoon into the soup and tentatively raised it to his lips. Despite its simplicity the flavours burst on his tongue and he suddenly realised just how hungry he was.

 

It was funny how something so basic could awaken a small part of him that he’d shut off.

 

“It’s good,” he managed to say as he furiously wiped at the stray drop of soup that was rapidly making its way down his chin. A napkin was handed to him. “Really.”

 

“You should try the bread,” Duffy’s smile was genuine and he was slightly relieved to see no hint of sympathy in her eyes. “Charlie assures me it’s good.”

 

And it was, his focus solely on the need to quell the ravenous hunger in his belly to really pay attention to the quiet conversation around him. He gathered that Alicia had been there the whole time - he vaguely remembered being bundled into someone’s car after… well, after it all - and that there had been a steady stream of people coming to and from the apartment. It wasn’t Duffy’s first time coming by at lunch and Charlie and even Max had all be there.

 

He seemed to remember a sleep-rumpled Max rubbing his back as he was hunched over the toilet being violently sick. It was an odd image in retrospect but a small flutter of appreciation went through him all the same.

 

“Have you heard anything?”

 

He hadn’t realised that the words had come from his own mouth until both women were looking at him. Alicia looked wide-eyed but Duffy merely shook her head.

 

“I’m sorry Ethan, but nothing more than we already know.”

 

That Cal had been found outside the ED, stabbed and bleeding to death in the rain. Assailant and motive unknown. His stomach flipped uncomfortably , soup and all.

 

“But I have some names for you to contact, at the station,” she continued, pushing the glass of juice closer to him. “You weren’t… well, you weren’t in any position to remember them.”

 

Ethan shrugged, hardly able to argue against that. “Thank you.”

 

“You know that we’re here for you. If there’s anything you need from us you only have to ask.”

 

He knew that and breathed out slowly.

 

“We need to go to the police.”

 

“Not until you’ve slept,” Alicia interjected, her hand firmly on his shoulder. “That was the plan, wasn’t it?”

 

“Hmm.”

 

Sleep sounded a lot more inviting now that his stomach was full and the room wasn’t so stuffy. Involuntarily his eyelids drooped and he felt his grip on the spoon grow weak.

 

“I’ll have a nap here,” he heard himself say. Alicia gently eased him down onto the sofa as Duffy deftly plucked the spoon from his hand.

 

Despite his previous attempts at evading sleep he was dimly shocked at how quickly it came upon him when he gave into it. He just about heard Alicia quietly saying that she was going to go home to shower and pick up some clothes and Duffy picking up the empty dishes before he was consumed by the darkness of slumber.

 

But it wasn’t restful by any means. He was plagued by visions of his brother, sometimes he was still - ashen skin and blue lips, bloody sheets and the grim finality of death - but sometimes he stood in the pub he and Alicia had been in what seemed like a lifetime ago, sopping wet and wounded and wheezing, blood staining his clothes and pooling beneath his feet, eyes accusatory. His voice cold.

 

‘ _Why are you_ here _? I’m dying and my own brother can’t be bothered to be there for me._ ’

 

He was on his feet and floundering towards the bathroom before he was fully awake, crashing to his knees in front of the toilet and throwing up the contents of his stomach until it angrily cramped and all he brought up was bile. His eyes stung and blurred and all he wanted to do was stop existing.

 

“Ethan?!” Alicia’s clothes were different and her hair looked soft, pulled back into her usual ponytail. How long had he been out? He didn’t even have the energy to reply. “Oh, _Ethan_.”

 

He struggled to reach up to pull the flush handle down. There were some things that Alicia didn’t need to see. He didn’t _want_ her to see.

 

She knelt down next to him, no trace of disgust or disappointment in her movements. “What was it?”

 

“Nightmare.”

 

Alicia shifted, gently running her hand over his shoulders in soothing, circular motions. The pressure was light, comforting. “Do you want to talk about it?”

 

“Cal,” he struggled to swallow the acidic taste of bile in his mouth. A cool glass was eased into his hand. Alicia’s calming touch didn’t stop. “I wasn’t there for him.”

 

“There’s no way you could have predicted this.”

 

“I know I know,” he lifted his head and ran his free hand through his hair. He took a sip of water to try and ease the vile taste curled around his tongue. “It doesn’t make me feel any better. Alicia, we were around the corner at the pub whilst he…he...”

 

The wall tiles were suddenly very interesting. He placed the glass down.

 

“...I should have been there.”

 

Alicia didn’t answer but her hand squeezed his shoulder in comfort. Ethan sighed, rubbing at his eyes with the palm of his hand.

 

“I should get those names from Duffy, go to the police. Now.”

 

“Do you think you’re ready?” Alicia sounded dubious but her hand stayed. Ethan sat back on his hands. “I know I said… well, I’ll support you in anything you want to do. Anything.”

 

“I need to go,” he squinted, not looking for anything in particular but thinking. “I should probably shower first.”

 

Alicia gave one last squeeze of his shoulder and exited the bathroom, closing the door behind her with a light click.

 


	3. Chapter 3

“Did your brother have any enemies?”

The word ‘did’ only threw him off for a moment before the full implications of PC Wilkinson’s question hit him.

“Enemies?” He asked before he could stop it. His voice sounded squeaky and incredulous, far too loud in the small, informal relatives room.

PC Wilkinson sat opposite him; back straight, eyes serious. Alicia squeezed his hand as she sat silently beside him.

“Anybody you can think of who would have a vendetta against him? Enough to do something like this?”

Ethan instantly remembered plenty of his brother’s ex-girlfriends, those who had ended the relationship whilst screaming obscenities and threatening physical violence, throwing shoes and hurling slaps. Often, their equally enraged boyfriends/husbands has joined in, promising retribution but... he didn’t think that any of them would have remained angry long enough to stick a knife in Cal’s side.

Cal’s last _serious_ relationship had been with Taylor, nothing afterwards sprung to mind excluding his time with Alicia. Nothing serious enough.

At the officer’s steady, questioning look he shook his head. “No, no enemies.”

“What was his behaviour like? Was he anxious, worried…?”

“No.” Although it was always hard to tell with Cal, had he been worried? Too scared to talk to his brother about something that was threatening his life? After everything they’d been through, Ethan hoped not. “Not that I can think of.”

“He was really passionate about the strike, he really got stuck in,” Alicia added, squeezing Ethan’s hand again. He squeezed back. “And a bit annoyed I guess, he lost his surgical rotation.”

In the grand scheme of things Ethan had completely forgotten about the surgical rotation.

“Was there anybody in particular who was angry about the strike?”

“Sam, I mean Sam Strachan, was angry…” Alicia looked apprehensive. Her forehead creased in thought. “But I don’t think he did this.”

Ethan agreed. Cal and Sam’s grievances were out in the open after their very public display of dominance in the ED, and he figured Sam preferred to deal with things by the book than by physical violence.

PC Wilkinson noted it down anyway.

“Is there anything else you can think of that could be relevant at all to our investigation?” Ethan shook his head. “If you think of anything - anything at all - just call us and ask to speak to me.” Ethan nodded. PC Wilkinson’s expression softened. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

She was the first person who had said that to him. He hated it already.

“Thank you,” Alicia replied, getting to her feet. Following her lead, Ethan nodded in the officer’s direction and followed his colleague/girlfriend/ _something_ from the room.

The police station was quietly buzzing with energy. Nobody paid them any attention as they weaved their way to the front doors, stepping out into the slightly overcast afternoon.

It must have rained whilst they were inside, despite the brightness of the morning. The grey of the pavements looked damp and there were droplets on every surface with a lingering wet smell to the air that tickled his nose.

Alicia shivered, folding her free arm around herself, and gave him a small, encouraging smile. “What would you like to do now?”

It was a loaded question, one he didn’t particularly know the answer to.

“I think I’d like to go to work.”

It made sense. His flat was too quiet and its four walls too lonely. At least at work he could keep busy and actually be useful instead of thinking about his brother’s potential enemies.

He didn’t realise that he’d said any of it out loud until he really registered the look of utter astonishment on Alicia’s face. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was open, her words tumbling out in a mix of confusion and disbelief.

“Do you… do you _really_ think that’s a good idea?”

“I’ve got to do _something_.”

His car was parked close to the station, so before Alicia could protest he dropped her hand and stalked towards it. Behind him he could hear Alicia hurrying to catch up.

“I’m not saying you _can’t_ go back to work,” she gushed, falling into step with him. “Really, if you want to go then I’ll support you but no one’s going to think less of you if you stay away for a bit.”

He couldn’t think of an answer to that, and instead dug his hand into his jacket pocket in search of his car keys. He unlocked the car and slid into the driver’s seat as Alicia opened the passenger door.

“I know my limits,” Ethan said quietly as Alicia sat down. “If I get in there and can’t do it then… I can’t do it. I’ll go home like a good little boy.”

“We don’t mean it like tha-” Something buzzed at Alicia’s feet” Oh?”

She bent forward and dug her hand under the seat. After a moment of searching she pulled out a slim smartphone, its screen lit. Ethan felt his mouth go dry.

“That’s mine.”

His memories of _that_ evening were a blur, but amongst the cacophony of emotion and sounds and faces he seemed to remember his brother’s name light up on his phone. And then his subsequent dismissal of it.

Surprisingly, despite everything, his hand was steady as he reached out take the device from Alicia’s grasp.

The phone’s screen dimmed as he held it but a gentle press of the HOME button brought it back to life. The screen was full. Unread text messages, ignored Facebook alerts and, to his surprise, a number of missed calls.

He unlocked the phone with a shaky breath and scrolled past Elle, Lily and even Connie’s names to the one that really mattered.

**cal (1)**

“He tried to phone me,” he whispered, Cal’s name blurring. His eyes stung. “And I ignored him.”

Alicia didn’t respond. Ethan closed his eyes.

“Would he still be alive if I’d answered?”

“Ethan,” Alicia’s voice was firm. He opened his eyes rested his head against the headrest. “Don’t think like that.”

“It’s a bit difficult not to. I ignore his call and an hour later he’s dead,” he stuffed the phone into his jacket pocket and put the key into the ignition with more force than he intended.  

“Ethan…”

“I’m going to work,” he said simply. “Whether you like it or not.”

Alicia sighed softly, resting her hand atop his one that was clutching the gear stick with white knuckles.

“I told you I’d support you, if this is what you want to do then I’m not going to stop you.”

“Okay.”


End file.
